Safe Haven
by Angelamermaid
Summary: Cristina and Owen with their family. Continuing a few years after "The Twenty-Four Months After".
1. Chapter 1

_Christmas Eve, Seattle_

Dr. Owen Hunt stands outside in the ambulance bay watching the snow fall quietly around him, enjoying a rare quiet night at Seattle Grace. He's got a jacket slung over his shoulders for warmth.

"Evening, Dr Hunt."

He turns and nods to the security guard on her rounds. "Good evening, Sonia."

"Why are you working on Christmas Eve when you have a family at home? You're the Head of Trauma!"

"Somebody had to work tonight," he smiles. "I'll be home in time to open presents with the girls."

"How old are they again?"

"Mallory is six and Chloe will turn eight next week."

"They must be eager for Christmas," Sonia smiles.

"I'm sure Cristina has her hands full putting them to bed tonight. How old is your son now?"

"He's four." Sonia frowns as she notices a small figure approaching from the left in the shadows. She walks towards the person. "Dr. Hunt, please come here."

Owen walks over, sees that a teenaged girl is holding a bundle in her arms.

"Doctor?" the girl asks him, her face wrapped in a scarf.

He nods. "How can I help you?" He frowns when he sees that the bundle is a small baby wrapped in a blanket, and the girl is dressed in a windbreaker and jeans, not warm enough for the weather.

She says something quickly in Spanish, shoving the baby at him. Startled, Owen grabs the infant, trying not to drop it. He looks down at the baby and turns and runs inside, calling for assistance.

Quickly, his staff assesses the situation, while Callie goes to speak with the teen. A newborn baby boy with an umbilical cord still attached, carelessly bathed and wrapped in a blanket with no identifying markings. 4 pounds, 14 ounces - most likely premature. His temperature is lower than normal, but not dangerously so. They slowly start to warm him. Owen listens to his heartbeat through a stethoscope and frowns, not liking what he hears.

Callie walks over with an update from the girl. "She says her sister had the baby and doesn't want him. I gave her a Safe Haven bracelet and she left." She reaches down and attaches a matching Safe Haven bracelet to the boy's wrist.

"Good," Owen says. "Thanks for taking care of that."

"Social Services is sending someone over."

"Do you think that she was really the mother's sister or was she the mother?" Owen asks.

"Hard to say," Callie shrugs. "She just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible."

.**.

Owen goes to his office to deal with some paperwork. He's surprised to see Derek walking in the deserted corridors, wearing street clothes and looking distracted.

"What's up?" Owen asks, approaching his friend.

Derek looks up at him. "Some of the interns got into a fight playing floor hockey in the basement. I had to come in and knock some heads together."

Owen shakes his head and laughs. "Is it just me, or are med schools recruiting from kindergarten these days?"

Derek half-smiles. "Nights like this, I wonder why I ever wanted to be Chief of Surgery. I can't even spend Christmas Eve at home without being called in to mediate a fight or kick someone out the door. This job is sucking the life out of me, some days."

Owen regards Derek thoughtfully. "Got time for a walk?"

.**.

"_This_ is where you two go?" Derek chuckles as he looks around the boiler room. "You must literally have dirty sex here."

Owen laughs. "No comment."

"After walking in on Mark's exploits for years, I do appreciate a discreet man," Derek says. "I know I'll never visit the Dermatology waiting room without disturbing mental images again."

"Same with me and the supply closets in the Cardio wing," Owen says. "There are two nurses who still can't look me in the eye."

Derek smirks, and then looks down in surprise as a breeze shoots up from the vent. He laughs, carelessly. "How did you find out about this room?"

"I did a lot of exploring when I came to Seattle Grace," Owen replies. "When my head needed to be cleared, I came here. I brought Cristina here when she had a bad day, and it became our hideout."

"Ah, so this is your 'happy place'?" Derek regards him thoughtfully. "I've almost forgotten how - intense you were when you came here. I thought you were this tight-ass who couldn't adapt to civilian life."

Owen smiles. "And you were a jerk who put Mark up to hitting on Cristina."

"I did, didn't I?" Derek laughs. "Thank God that didn't work."

"He never had a chance," Owen says. They chuckle as another breeze shoots up.

"How is your veteran centre stuff going?" Derek asks quietly.

"Good," Owen replies. "It keeps me busy and out of trouble."

Derek pauses. "By out of trouble, you mean...?"

"There will always be triggers," Owen says. He holds up his left hand, adorned with a simple wedding band. "But I am motivated to stay on top of things. There are a couple of counselors at the centre that I can always drop in on, as needed."

.**.

Just after midnight, Owen visits the NICU. The Safe Haven infant is in an isolette, with a nasal cannula and heart monitor. He's been fed and carefully bathed and dressed and his temperature is normal. He does not appear to be in any kind of drug withdrawal. He's sleeping peacefully.

"What will happen to him if the mother doesn't change her mind?" Owen asks the social worker assigned to the case, filling out paperwork by the infant's isolette.

"Foster care, once he's released from the hospital," she says. "Then he may be put up for adoption. You've ordered a cardio consult?"

Owen nods. "Plus a full blood panel." He looks at the child's face. "I've seen many strange things over the years. As a father, I have to wonder how could someone dump him like that."

"The Safe Haven law is for babies like him," the social worker says. "He wasn't left in a dumpster somewhere."

Sonia walks over and joins them. "He's looking better," she says. "I was so worried when I saw the condition he was in. I had to see him before I went home for the night."

"Has anyone thought of a name for him?" The social worker looks at the two of them. "We have plenty of 'John Doe's in the system."

Owen looks at Sonia and shrugs. "You saw him first," he points out.

"Diego," she says decisively. "My son's name is Diego."

"His name is Diego," Owen agrees. "Good night, Sonia."

"Merry Christmas!"

.**.

Owen checks his watch as he enters the house in the dark. He smiles in satisfaction to see that he still has time. Quickly, he goes into the basement and grabs the presents from Santa from their hiding place. He places them under the huge Christmas tree, and then goes into the kitchen to start the coffee.

He checks the time again as he goes upstairs. He softly knocks on Mallory's bedroom door.

"I'm awake!" Mallory whispers, opening the door. "Merry Christmas!" Owen tries not to notice the riotous mess inside, as she beams and holds out her arms. He picks her up in a big bear hug.

"Did you use your inhaler yet?"

"Do I have to?" Mallory sticks out her lower lip.

"Yes!" He puts her down and ruffles her red hair. "I don't want to take you to the ER on Christmas."

"Fine," she sighs dramatically, heading towards the bathroom. Owen chuckles, and then quietly knocks on Chloe's door.

"Merry Christmas Dad!" Chloe opens her door, her black curls pulled back in her usual ponytail, her bed already made.

"Merry Christmas, kiddo." Owen hugs his oldest daughter.

"Did you just get home?" She looks at his clothes.

"I did. I almost got run over by reindeer on the way home."

Chloe smiles and rolls her eyes. Owen watches her wistfully - he can hardly believe how fast she is growing up. It had been a dark day when she had figured out the truth about Santa Claus.

"I'm done," Mallory announces, coming out of the bathroom. "_Now_ can we wake Mommy up?"

"Yes," Owen laughs, opening the door to the master bedroom.

They quietly creep in. Cristina is lying underneath the blankets. Mallory eagerly climbs onto the bed and announces, "Time to wake up!"

Cristina pulls back the covers, pretending to be annoyed.

"You're waking me up too early," she says, making a face at Mallory, who is tugging at her hands. "Can't you let me sleep in?"

"No!" Their youngest daughter shouts happily. "It's Christmas morning! Get up!"

Cristina sighs dramatically, looking up at Owen, standing by their bed, very amused. Chloe stands beside him, grinning and bouncing.

"Come _on_ Mom," Chloe pleads. "You know Dad won't let us open presents without you."

Mallory jumps up and down on the bed, red hair flying, while Cristina makes a big show of slowly getting up.

"Did you just get home?" Cristina asks Owen, noting he's dressed in a sweater and jeans while the girls are in their pyjamas.

"Yes," he replies with a smile. "We had an interesting case last night. I'll tell you about it later."

.**.

Cristina finishes her examination and turns to Owen and Sheila, the social worker assigned to Diego's case.

"I suspect a ventricular septal defect, I'll order an echocardiograph to be sure." She sees Sheila's confusion. "He may have one or more holes in his heart."

"And then?"

Diego starts to fuss and Owen picks him up.

"It may heal on its own, or he may require surgery," Cristina says.

Owen nods, rocking the boy.

.**.

Owen goes over the blood test results with Sheila.

"HIV+", she sighs.

"He may not be infected," Owen says. "His mother could be the infected one, and her antibodies are making him test positive. If he still tests positive in eighteen months, there are tests to confirm if he's infected or not."

Sheila nods. "In the meantime, there go his adoption chances. We'll be lucky to find anyone suitable, who will take an HIV+ infant with a heart condition. His medical bills are going to be astronomical."

Owen frowns. "What if nobody adopts him?"

"Foster care. We've got a few homes that are experienced with high-risk cases."

.**.

Cristina finds Owen standing by Diego's isolette in the NICU.

"He's looking good," she says quietly. "I don't think he'll need surgery right away. It won't be long until he puts on some weight and can be released."

"And then he'll be swallowed by the system," Owen says, stroking the boy's black hair. "While he waits to see if his HIV status has scared off all potential adoptive parents."

Cristina takes Owen's free hand. "Don't make me be the optimistic one," she jokes.

.**.

"Today's a big day!" Diego smiles as the nurses dress him, so he can leave the hospital, in the company of a social worker. "You're leaving us at last!"

Owen watches from the sidelines.

.**.

_Two months later_

Owen is paged to the nursery. The Head Nurse simply points to a corner and says, "Diego is back."

He walks over - and is surprised to see Cristina standing by Diego's crib, watching him sleep.

"What happened?" Owen asks, picking up his chart.

"His foster mother had a heart attack," Cristina replies. "She'll live. Social Services brought all of the kids in to be checked out. Diego and another child have pneumonia."

Owen curses under his breath as he looks at the chart. "He's barely gained any weight in two months."

"Sheila thinks the foster mother got overwhelmed," Cristina says quietly. "She's looking for another foster home."

"And what, so he can get sick there too?"

"Not all foster homes are bad," Cristina reminds him. "Look, you've got me being the optimistic one again. Stop that."

Owen half-smiles. "What are you doing here?"

"I did a cardio consult and ordered another echocardiograph," Cristina says. "I just got the results - he's going to need surgery after all."

"Which Social Services is not going to want to pay for."

"I'll perform it pro bono and work on Derek."

Owen nods. "Diego was pretty popular with the staff, we might be able to get enough volunteers to bring the costs down. I'll scrub in for free."

Cristina regards Owen thoughtfully. "You really like him."

"I feel sorry for him, Cristina. Dumped at a hospital on a cold night, barely born. And now he's already been bounced out of one foster home. And yeah, I _like him_, and I wish I could do something more for him."

She opens her mouth - then closes it again when her pager goes off. She checks it and frowns. "Gotta go."

.**.

The next week, Owen drops by the nursery on his way home. This time he is surprised to see Derek sitting by Diego's crib.

Derek waves. "Cristina's put together a surgical team to operate on Diego pro bono. Thought I'd see him for myself before signing off on the OR."

"He's a charmer," Owen smiles.

"Uh huh." Derek looks at Owen. "I hear that you spend a lot of time with him. What's going on, Owen?"

Owen ducks his head. "I'm just interested in him."

"That's all?" Owen looks up to see Derek smiling softly at him.

"That's all," Owen says.

Derek shakes his head. "I don't believe you."

Owen ducks his head again. "I can't ask her to take on another child. She's - made it clear that she doesn't want any more children, after what happened when Mallory was born. And I don't blame her. I almost lost both of them."

Derek leans over. "I thought the situation was that Cristina didn't want any more _pregnancies_."

"She doesn't. And the vasectomy was my idea. I do support her."

Derek regards him. "But did you close the door on adoption?"

Owen sighs. "No. But we're talking about a high-risk child. I know, _he_ may not actually be infected with HIV, but we don't know for sure yet. How can I ask her to take on a child that might not outlive us?"

Derek smiles. "She came charging into my office this morning with a well-researched case for getting the hospital to cover the costs of the surgery pro bono. She's managed to find an entire OR team that will donate their services to work on an HIV+ infant. I think she might be more open to the idea than you think."

.**.

"Okay, I'm here," Cristina, says, entering the boiler room. "What's up?"

Owen smiles softly at her. "I hear you put forward a great case for the hospital covering Diego's surgery."

"I did," she says. "I just got Derek's sign-off."

"Good." He looks shyly at her.

"Are you finally going to ask?" Cristina smirks, taking his hands.

"Ask what?"

"Ask if we can keep him," she replies smoothly. "I've never seen you bond with a patient like this. Everyone sees it. I think you want to take him, and I've been wondering why you won't say so."

He looks down and speaks gruffly. "This is big. It's not like bringing a puppy home."

"I know." She lifts a hand to stroke his face. "We need to consider the girls. We need to research the current information on AIDS. But I'm not saying 'no'. I'm saying 'maybe.'"

Owen looks up to face her, feeling a sudden hope.

"I like him," Cristina says simply. She checks her pager as it goes off.

"We will talk when I get home tonight," Cristina says, touching his shoulder before she leaves.

.**.

When Cristina gets home, the girls are busy with homework in the study. Owen brings her a plate of food and sits down with her in the dining room.

"We have everything we need," Owen says. "We have a very full life. This isn't about wanting to fill a void. I don't _need_ a son. This is about _Diego_."

"I know," Cristina says, between bites. "He's quite the charmer. I don't think he's thriving in foster care. I - think he would do better if we could take him in."

"He's not well," Owen says quietly. "He may not live to adulthood. I thought you didn't want another high-risk child."

"I didn't want another high-risk preemie," Cristina says. "With Diego, we know what we're facing."

"I did some quick research on raising HIV+ kids," Owen says. "We will do more, but with the proper course of treatment started as soon as possible, his viral load could be virtually non-existent for a long time. And of course, we don't know for sure if he's infected, or if it's the mother's antibodies."

Cristina nods. "We have two smart children, they can be taught to avoid his blood. I don't think they'd hate the idea of bringing him home, but it will impact them. Especially if he doesn't make it."

"So it's something we can consider further?" Owen squeezes her hand. "It's a huge decision, we should not rush into this."

"We can consider it," she says. "But I'm stating, up front, I don't want to take maternity leave again. I am a Cardio Goddess. That is my deal-breaker."

"Okay."

.** .

After a couple of weeks of research, Owen and Cristina sit their daughters down in the living room.

"We have some news," Owen starts, looking serious.

"You're getting a divorce?" Mallory blurts out.

"No!" Cristina and Owen look at each other, and then the girls. "Why would you think that?" Cristina asks.

"That's what Jonah's parents said before they told him they were getting a divorce," Mallory replies, eyes wide.

"We're not getting a divorce," Owen says. "But we are making a change-"

"We're moving?" Chloe gasps. "I don't want to move!"

Owen sighs. "We're not moving."

"What is it?" Chloe looks scared.

"It's good news," her father assures her. "Well, we think it's good news and we hope you will too. We want to make an addition to our family-"

"Mom's pregnant?" Mallory perks up, eyes dancing.

"_No_," Cristina sighs. "I've had enough of that."

"A puppy?" Chloe asks hopefully. "We're finally getting a dog?"

"Not a dog," Owen replies. "You know that we can't have a dog with Mallory's asthma and allergies."

"But we can get a shitzu or another hypoallergenic dog," Chloe whines.

"Those are toy dogs," Owen says dismissively.

"They're too messy and loud," Cristina snaps. "No. Dogs."

"You don't clean," Mallory tells her mother frankly. "Why do you care if they're messy?"

Cristina rolls her eyes as Chloe and Owen laugh conspiratorially.

"What's your news?" Mallory asks Owen.

"I'd tell you, if you two would stop interrupting me," he sighs.

"Be quiet," Chloe scolds Mallory.

"There's a little baby boy who has been in and out of the hospital," Owen starts. "He was abandoned and he's been sick and nobody wants to adopt him. Except us."

The girls stare at him.

"He's cute," Cristina adds. "His name is Diego and he's three months old and we have pictures!" She produces a stack of photos and hands them to the girls.

"We like him very much," Owen says, carefully watching their reactions. "Everyone who meets him likes him. We hope you will too."

"Aw, he's cute," Mallory says.

"What's wrong with him?" Chloe asks, peering at the photos.

"He has a hole in his heart which I will fix," Cristina says. "And - he's testing as HIV+ right now."

"He could _die_?" Chloe's eyebrows shoot up.

"What's HIV?" Mallory looks to her parents.

Chloe nibbles her bottom lip. "A dog would be less messy."

"No dogs," Owen sighs.


	2. Chapter 2

Owen brings Chloe and Mallory in to the hospital, to meet Diego. He crouches down to their level and speaks with them outside of the nursery.

"Remember, it's really important that you keep these _on_," Owen reminds them, adjusting the special masks and gloves he's rigged up for them. "Now give me your hands and stay with me."

"Okay Daddy," Chloe says sombrely. Mallory wriggles with excitement as she takes his hand. They walk over to Diego's crib. Cristina is seated beside it, giving him a bottle.

"This is Diego," Cristina smiles.

"He looks like a little bear," Mallory observes, looking at the black-haired, black-eyed boy curiously. "He's even cuter than his pictures."

"Can I touch him?" Chloe asks.

Cristina smiles and nods. Chloe gently pats his hair, then holds out a gloved finger for him to hold. He quickly grabs her finger.

"Is he well enough to play with?" Mallory asks.

"Not yet," Owen smiles. "But soon."

Mallory nods briefly, then looks around at the nursery. "Can I play with the other babies?"

"_No_," Owen chuckles. "You are here to see _this baby_."

Mallory makes a face.

"You lived in the NICU when you were first born," Owen says, crouching down to her level. "We made sure nobody played with you until you were big enough."

"I would have played with them anyways."

"I know. But some of these babies are very sick. You can't play with them."

"This baby doesn't look sick," Chloe observes, still letting Diego grasp her finger.

"He's doing better," Cristina says. "He had pneumonia but he responded well to treatment. He's going to have surgery to close the holes in his heart very soon."

"And we can take him home after?" Mallory asks.

"Do you think you want to?" Owen asks.

"Yes," Chloe and Mallory say. Their parents exchange a look.

"It's going to take some time for us to be approved," Owen cautions. "And his mommy could return and ask to have him back which could cause problems."

"I hope she doesn't," Chloe says. "He is so cute. Hey, he's looking right at me. He likes us."

"Let me see," Mallory demands. She moves closer to stare at Diego, as he contentedly drinks from the bottle. He looks at her, holding her gaze.

"He does like us," she decides. "He can sleep in my room."

.**.

They all crowd into the new nursery in their house, formerly the guest room. Diego is wailing in his crib.

"_Why_ does he keep crying?" Mallory sighs.

Owen smiles as he reaches in to pick up Diego. "I think he's tired of being moved around from the hospital and foster care and back to the hospital and now here. He'll stop crying once he gets used to this house. He just got here yesterday."

"Well, have a good day," Cristina tells Owen. "Enjoy paternity leave. Come on, girls." She kisses him and leaves the room.

Owen looks at his daughters, staring up at Diego. The boy is quieting down, nestled in Owen's arms. Owen smiles. "Are you two going to stand there all day? You've got school."

"Is he going to be okay?" Chloe looks up at Owen. "Is he going to miss us?"

"He'll be okay," her father assures her. "I'll be here."

.**.

That evening, Diego continues to cry off and on, causing much concern in the Hunt household. Cristina tries to soothe him while Owen gets the girls ready for bed.

"Try playing the guitar." Chloe suggests to Owen, before dutifully going upstairs for her bath.

Mallory stubbornly stays on the couch, watching Cristina give Diego a bottle. Her long red hair is damp from her bath, and she's wearing her favourite purple pyjamas.

"Come on, Mal," Owen coaxes. "Time for bed."

Mallory shakes her head, and curls up beside Cristina. "I want _both_ of you to read me my stories," she says.

Cristina gestures to Diego. "I'm busy. Go with your dad."

"No!" Mallory sticks out her lower lip and glares at her mother. "_You_ read me my stories tonight. I don't care about _him_." She points to Diego.

Her parents exchange a look.

"I know this is a big change," Owen says, crouching down to look her in the eye. "More change than you expected. Diego needs a lot of help right now. We can't both put you to bed tonight."

"Then send him back," Mallory replies. "Let someone else adopt him."

Owen breathes in deeply, praying he'll say the right thing. "We can't do that," he says gently. "He needs a special family like ours."

"He needs doctors for parents," Cristina says. "We understand what he needs."

"And he needs big sisters," Owen adds hastily. "Sisters to teach him and play with him. He needs you. _We_ need you."

Mallory looks at Owen warily.

"_We_ need our Mallory," he smiles at her. "We need our little hurricane who keeps us happy with her stories and her drawings and her songs. We'd be very sad if we didn't have _you_. And Diego needs you."

Mallory dimples at him as she snuggles closer to Cristina.

"I have a brilliant idea!" Cristina announces. "Why don't you go upstairs with Dad and choose your stories, and we can all read them downstairs with you?"

Mallory purses her lips and pretends to consider it. "I think that will work."

.**.

_May_

While Cristina works on a rainy Saturday, Owen takes the kids to a mall to get out of the house. They're seated in the food court, having a snack, when a familiar blonde woman approaches him.

"Hi Beth." Owen stands up to greet her. "It's - been years."

"Hi." She smiles tentatively. "Your mom said you have quite the brood!" She looks at the three children.

He chuckles. "Yep, we expanded by one more recently. This is Chloe, Mallory, and Diego."

The girls wave and smile, while Diego plays with the toys in front of him.

"I heard you were adopting your son, I didn't realize you'd adopted another child." Beth looks meaningfully at Chloe, who rolls her eyes.

"I'm _not_ adopted," Chloe sighs.

Owen half-smiles at Beth, "Chloe is the spitting image of my wife. Only she's going to be taller than her."

"Oh." Beth blushes. "Well, I just thought I'd say 'hi'. I, um, have to run." She quickly glances at the children before leaving.

"Who was that?" Mallory watches Beth walk quickly away.

"Where do I start?" Owen chuckles. His smile fades when he sees how serious Chloe is looking.

"I _hate_ people thinking I was adopted from China, when Mom isn't here," she says.

"Oh, I know _you_ were made in the USA," he smiles. "Some people - just think that, going by appearances."

"Has she ever met Mom?" Chloe asks.

"Once," Owen says. "That was before your mother and I got married, and Beth's father was in the hospital. I don't think she knew we were dating. Beth was still sort of thinking her and I could get back together."

"You _dated_ her?" Mallory's eyes grow wide and she drops a french fry.

"I was engaged to her," Owen admits. He regrets his words, as his daughters look shocked.

"You were _engaged_ to someone else?" Chloe gasps.

"What happened?" Mallory adds.

Owen sighs. "I was engaged to her when I went off to war. We - grew apart. You know, the war - changed me."

"It gives you bad dreams and you can't sleep sometimes," Chloe nods sagely.

"Does Mommy know you were engaged to someone else?" Mallory asks.

Owen chuckles. "_Yes_. And you might as well know that your mother was engaged to someone else before me."

"She _was_?" The girls look at each other.

"What else don't we know?" Chloe demands.

Owen laughs bashfully. "You know what you need to know."

.**.

_June_

"They're here, they're here!" Mallory screams, jumping up and down and pointing to a mini-van with a trailer pulling into the campsite.

"Inside voice!" Cristina admonishes, coming out of the tent. Owen is sitting in a camp chair, burping Diego.

"Why?" Mallory looks confused. "We're _outside_."

"And I have a headache," Cristina sighs. "I really can't take this fresh air."

The doors to the mini-van open and the occupants spill out.

"Hi Auntie Meredith!" Mallory screams again, rushing to hug her first. Cristina rolls her eyes affectionately, as Chloe runs to greet their friends too. She and Johanna quickly run off to whisper to each other.

Owen laughs as he stands up. "The whole point of going camping is be as loud and crazy as you want."

"Whatever," Cristina mutters. "Look at the girls. You'd think they haven't seen each other in months. Instead of a week."

Owen carefully places Diego on a blanket, gathering up Robbie for a bear hug. Robbie looks a little resentful. "Getting too big for hugs Robbie?"

"He is," Derek laughs. "He's ten."

"Stay on the blanket, Diego," Mallory coos, kneeling down beside him. "Hey, you have a booger."

"I don't know where Mallory gets that from," Cristina deadpans, finding a tissue.

Robbie flops down in an empty chair and digs a video game out of his pocket. "Let me see," Mallory says, standing beside him. "Please." He sighs.

Cristina smirks. "I think Robbie's tired from the drive, Mal." Her daughter pouts briefly, before running over to where Chloe and Johanna are whispering to each other.

"Don't bug your sister!" Cristina yells after her. She shrugs at Meredith. "The girls could barely sleep last night, they were so excited."

"Same with JoJo. All of our children like camping. How did that happen?"

"_Go away!_" Chloe yells at Mallory, who shrugs and starts skipping back.

"And I was hoping for a quiet weekend," Derek jokes.

"Not with this crew," Owen sighs.

.**.

_October_

Owen makes his way to a conference room, answering a page from Cristina. He pauses, his blood turning cold, when he sees a police officer and Sheila waiting with his wife.

"Diego's grandparents found the Safe Haven bracelet in their daughter's things," Cristina says crisply. "They want to see him. They're saying they want to keep him."

"Over my dead body," Owen replies simply. He paces the conference room, listening to the police officer and the social worker. When they finish, he stops, staring out the window.

"But her daughter didn't want Diego," he says to the skyline. "She made her sister take him away. She gave him up."

"She was 13," the social worker says. "Her mother is trying to use her daughter's age as a bargaining tool."

"Are you sure you have the right girl?" Cristina asks, watching Owen's shoulders sag. "Okay, she had the bracelet, but is she really the mother?"

"We're not sure," the police officer says. "She's voluntarily submitted a DNA sample, and we got one from Diego when he was found. We're fast-tracking the test."

"In the meantime, you can continue to foster Diego if you want to," Sheila adds. "And -"

"Of course we want to," Owen snarls, turning around. "He's _ours_. We took him in and we love him and our daughters love him. They can't just show up and say 'Okay, we want to keep him'. I don't want them anywhere near him; I don't want them to even _see_ him. How do we know they won't run away with him? She rejected him. We know how to take care of him."

Sheila smiles understandingly, before continuing. "We can go to a judge and request that we wait for the DNA test results before any visitations, and if visitations are granted, we can request that they be monitored. And the Safe Haven law protects you. It's very unlikely you could lose custody."

"Thank you Sheila, Sgt. Jasra," Cristina says, standing up. "Thank you for coming in and explaining this in person. We'll stay in touch."

"We'll be speaking with our lawyer," Owen mutters.

The women nod, glancing briefly at Owen as they stand up. Cristina sees them out, then closes the door.

"Owen-"

"He's our son," he spits out. "We're supposed to hand him over after she dumped him?"

"No," Cristina says gently, placing a hand on his arm. "He's not leaving us without a fight."

"He's our son," Owen repeats, looking down. His voice is shaky.

"I know." She wraps her arms around him, leaning against him for strength.

.**.

Later that night, Cristina goes upstairs to check on the children. They are all asleep. Mallory has climbed into Chloe's bed, and Diego is in his crib.

She goes into the master bedroom. Her shoulders sag when she sees Owen sitting on the bed, glaring at the floor.

"It's been a bad day for both of us," Cristina mutters, sitting next to him, wrapping her arms around him.

She strokes his face, trying to calm him down. He buries his face in the crook between her neck and shoulder, while she holds him close. She rubs his back, willing him to relax.

His lips find hers, and they fall onto the bed, each trying to reassure the other.


	3. Chapter 3

Owen is looking at a file at the nurses' station in the Pit, when he has the feeling of being watched. He looks up to see a Hispanic couple in working clothes, with a teenaged girl. The girl is pointing at him. They look chagrined when they see that Owen has noticed them. He walks over.

"Can I help you?"

"You - were working Christmas Eve," the man says in heavily accented English. "There was a baby."

Owen nods. "The baby was handed to me," he says. "By her?" He nods at the girl. She nods faintly.

The man coughs nervously. "We - have a friend who works in the hospital. She says you took the baby home. We want to speak with you."

Owen sighs.

.**.

They assemble in Derek's office, Cristina and a lawyer for the hospital included.

The man introduces himself as Hector. "We're in the country legally," he starts. "We - had a difficult time when we arrived. My younger girl - she is at home - she got taken advantage of. She got in trouble and hid the pregnancy."

The hospital lawyer asks, "Why are you here?"

Hector swallows. "I - know two of your doctors took the baby. My wife - she don't think that's right."

The teenage girl translates the speech in Spanish to her mother, as Cristina grips Owen's hand. His face is grim and dark.

The lawyer speaks. "The Hunts followed every law in Washington State. In fact, they didn't start the adoption proceedings until he was four months old and had spent time in a foster home. No judge is going to just hand the boy over."

The woman scowls as this is translated. She speaks rapidly in Spanish.

"She wants to talk - parent to parent," Hector translates. "Without the lawyers. It is important that we keep our family together."

"No," Owen says firmly. "We won't speak without a lawyer present. You're the ones who started this with a lawyer."

Hector pauses. "We just want to know him."

"She gave him up!" Owen explodes. "She gave him up under the Safe Haven law! You can't just show up and ask us to hand him over! You don't have a case!"

The woman starts shouting at Owen in Spanish, as Derek and Cristina try to calm him down. The angry words are interrupted by the sound of pagers.

Owen and Derek all look at their pagers.

Owen takes a deep breath. "We have ambulances coming in," he informs Hector. "There's an apartment building fire. We must take care of the patients first."

Hector nods. "I understand."

.**.

It's late at night, when Owen finally gets home. Cristina is waiting for him in the living room. Diego is curled up against her shoulder, snoozing.

"How are the girls?" Owen asks, sitting down beside her.

"They're good," she says, taking his hand. "Our little man here didn't want to fall asleep alone."

"What happened with the grandparents?"

"They left after you did." Cristina pauses, before taking in a deep breath. "Have you talked with anyone at the vet centre recently?"

He looks sideways at her. "Just about my volunteer work."

"Have you thought about speaking with one of the counselors about this? The custody battle?"

Owen looks down. "No."

"Things are getting intense," she says carefully. "I'm going to invoke the frying pan clause."

Owen turns to face her. "I hate that name."

"I know," she half-smiles. "That's why I use it."

.**.

The next day, Owen meets with Phil, a counselor at the vet centre.

"Thanks for seeing me so quickly," Owen says, sitting down on a familiar couch.

"It's been a while," the counselor nods. "What brings you by?"

"The frying pan clause."

Phil smiles quizzically. "The what?"

Owen sighs. "Cristina and I have a deal. If she thinks that I need to speak with a counselor, I have to. Otherwise she gets to kick me out."

The other man frowns. "And it's called a frying pan clause because?"

"After I stopped going to therapy the first time, I became triggered and I tried to deal with it on my own. I tried not to let it affect Cristina, but I got mad at something and threw a frying pan in a sink, and her reaction let me know that she was scared of me, in the dark place I was in. So, when we went back to the shrink, we devised the frying pan clause. Cristina came up with the name. It's a way for Cristina to tell me that she's worried about me and that I need to speak with a professional, and I have to do what she tells me."

Phil nods. "So is she afraid of you now?

"No." Owen shakes his head. "She never lets it get that far again. As my ally against the PTSD, it's her job to tell me when she sees that I'm struggling with my emotions. And as part of the clause, I agreed to always act on it. It's like landing on the 'Go to Jail' square in Monopoly. 'Go to therapy, do not pass Go, do not collect $200'."

The therapist chuckles, "I like that."

"It works for us," Owen shrugs. "I have a lot to lose if I don't listen to her."

"So why did she bring up the clause?"

"As you know, we've started adoption proceedings..."

Half an hour later, Phil has written out pages of notes. "I can see how this is stressful," he says. "You've built a family of five, and now someone wants to threaten this."

Owen nods. "I don't get why they keep persisting. We have the law on our side. The girl gave him up. She isn't even asking to see him, it's the grandparents who want this."

Phil nods. "That's true. She gave him up under the Safe Haven law. But think about this, Owen - the grandparents didn't give him up. They weren't consulted about this. From what you've said, family is very important to them. Can you see how they're struggling with this?"

"I guess." Owen looks thoughtful. "I'd be sick if one of my girls ever went through something like that without telling me."

.**.

Owen comes home to a harried atmosphere of screaming children and a frustrated wife.

"Do something with this," Cristina orders him, handing him a howling Diego. "He's teething."

"And he smells," Owen chuckles, handling him gingerly. "What's with the girls?"

"They're trying to boss each other around and I can't kick them outside to play because it's been raining forever," Cristina grumbles. She looks at him closely. "Why do _you_ look happy?"

"I saw Phil today," he says, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm going to see him again next week."

"Good," she nods. "Take the girls with you, will you?"

Owen laughs. "One crisis at a time, okay?"

.**.

Owen leaves the operating room, stripping off his gloves with a heavy sigh. He looks back at the table, where a nurse is covering a body with a sheet.

Cristina strides into the scrub room, purposefully. She pauses when she sees his dark expression.

"We lost a kid," he says, disposing of his gloves.

She smiles gently. "Our lawyer just called."

"Oh yeah?"

Cristina steps close and hugs him. "Diego's birth mother is showing signs of AIDS. They are dropping the custody bid. But they still want to talk visitation."

Owen exhales and hugs her back. "I didn't want it to end like this," he says quietly.

"I know."

.**.

"So that's it?" Derek asks over the phone.

"That's it," Owen smiles. "We're going to consider monitored visits. As long as the visits don't hurt him."

He turns as a sudden wail comes from the living room.

"Daddy!" Chloe runs to the door. "Diego fell. He's bleeding."

"Gotta go, Derek. Kid emergency."

"Gotcha."

Owen rushes to Diego, lying on the floor and howling, bleeding from his mouth. Mallory hands him plastic gloves from their first aid kit.

"He was walking and he tripped," she says.

"We didn't touch the blood," Chloe adds.

Owen pulls on the gloves and looks into the boy's mouth. "Looks like he cut his lip on a tooth. Nothing serious."

Chloe smiles and hands him a tissue to blot the blood with.

Within a few minutes, Diego is giggling, perched on Owen's lap.

"It's okay baby," Mallory soothes, hugging him and kissing his forehead. "Daddy made it all better."

"Are you _sure_ he doesn't need stitches?" Chloe asks, craning her head to look at his mouth.

"I'm not going to suture him just so you can watch," Owen chuckles. "He's fine, Dr Chloe."

.**.

_December 25_

Cristina lies in bed, blankets covering her face. She waits, listening to subdued giggling.

"It's 6 o'clock now," she hears Owen say.

"Wake up!" Mallory shrieks by her head.

Cristina sighs. Four small hands grab the blankets and yank them off her face.

"What?" Cristina asks, in her best sleepy voice. She slowly blinks her eyes. Mallory and Chloe are staring at her intently, their faces inches from hers. "Did my pager go off?"

"Yes!" Chloe grins at her. "Santa paged you. Merry Christmas!"

Cristina laughs as they pull the blankets off of her. She looks at Owen, standing by the bed, holding a sleeping Diego.

"He's not impressed with this tradition either," he winks at her.

"Finally, a child that likes to sleep in on Christmas morning! He's my favourite now," Cristina snorts.

"MOM!" The girls start pulling on her arms.

"_When_ are we going to stop doing this?" Cristina whines at Owen.

"In 17 years," he snorts. "When Diego is 18."

"But what if he wants to sleep in every Christmas?" Cristina teases, sitting up.

"Wait until he sees what a Hunt Christmas is like," Owen grins. "He's going to be up at 6 next year, and the year after that."

"And the year after that," Mallory adds.

"And 14 more years after that!" Chloe pipes up. "Now get out of bed. Please."

"Fine," Cristina grumbles, swinging her legs off the bed.

"YAY, YAY, YAY!" Mallory shrieks. "LET'S GO!"

"INSIDE VOICE!" Cristina moans.

Diego stirs and opens his eyes at the noise. He looks at everyone sleepily, nestled against Owen's chest.

"Welcome to your first Christmas at home," Owen says.

_Epilogue_

Owen arrives at the track meet late, after surgery. He searches the crowd of athletes - and waves when he sees Diego. Diego waves back then continues chatting with his teammates.

Owen looks at the bleachers and spots a familiar figure. He sits down next to Hector.

"How's he doing?" Owen asks.

"He qualified in the first heat for the 400 metres," the other man replies. "His team will be running the relay soon."

"Good, I didn't want to miss that." They watch the boys stretch.

"He runs so well," Hector says softly. "Just like his mother did."

Owen nods. "We got his latest blood test results this morning. His viral load hasn't changed, it's still barely detectable."

"Good." Hector pauses. "He told me all about his new lizard. How many does he have now?"

"Seven," Owen chuckles, "He takes good care of them. I've never seen healthier reptiles."

"He's a smart boy."

"That he is."

They sit and watch Diego get ready to take off.


End file.
